Page 41 of Pretty Ruthless Monsters: Complete Series

I walk over to her and touch her back, not moving away when she flinches hard. Her gray eyes are wild as she turns and sees me, and she lifts her hands, almost like she’s about to fend off an attack.

I hold up one hand in a gesture of peace, giving her a second or two to digest that, then I scoop her up from the ground like she weighs nothing.

“No!” she rasps, struggling in my hold. “Put me down. I don’t?—”

Her struggles aren’t strong enough to break free, so I cradle her against my chest and carry her out of the alley.

Either she realizes that I’m not a threat to her, or she doesn’t have the energy to fight anymore, because she goes still. I can still feel the light tremors wracking her body and the way her breathing is shallow and uneven.

We make it to my bike without any interference, and I put her on the front, turning her so that we’re chest to chest. I take her arms and wrap them around my body, and she catches on quickly, wrapping her legs around me as well.

I stroke one hand down her back before putting my focus on getting us out of here.

Luckily, we’re less than twenty minutes from Quinn’s house, and as soon as we reach it, I get her inside quickly. If any of the neighbors see me carrying her up the walkway in the fading evening light, they don’t come out to say shit about it, which I’m grateful for.

I take her upstairs, hesitating at the top of the steps because I’m not sure what she needs.

Quinn is still shaking, still struggling to breathe properly, but she manages to gulp down enough air to speak to me.

“A bath,” she chokes out. “I want—just run a bath, and then go.”

It’s easier when I have a direction, and I take her to the bathroom, settling her on the counter so I can do as she asked.

Her tub is an old one, large and spacious, and it takes several minutes for it to fill with steaming hot water. The air gets humid around us, and Quinn hunches over on the counter, her shoulders shaking as her hair curls lightly in the steam.

Once the bath is full, I get her down from the counter and help her undress.

Her hands bat at mine as if she doesn’t want my help, but she doesn’t make any move to take her own clothes off, so I keep going.

I tap one leg and then the other, urging her to step out of her jeans and panties, and then to lift her arms so her shirt and bra can come off.

She’s fucking beautiful, naked in the overhead light. Her tattoos and scars are on full display, all that teal hair falling around her shoulders. Even hunched over in the middle of a panic attack, she’s still the brightest thing in the room, but I don’t let myself get wrapped up in that.

Not right now.

I lift her up again and settle her in the tub, stepping back to make sure she’s not going to drown or anything. She wraps her arms around herself, shaking hard as if she’s cold, even though the water is warm enough that it’s turning her skin pink.

Something deep inside me aches at the sight. I can’t just leave her like this.

Without thinking too hard about it, I toe off my shoes and socks and then get in the tub with her, folding myself in behind her, still fully clothed.

“What are you doing?” she whispers, her voice low and unsteady.

In answer, I wrap my arms around her, enveloping her against my chest.

I half expect her to fight me all over again, to tell me to fuck off and get out so she can ride this out in private. But instead, she sinks into my embrace, finally letting herself cry.

Tears spill down her face, her body trembling hard from the force of her sobs. She’s clearly overwhelmed by something, and whatever it is, it’s definitely nothing good.

All I can do right now is hold her, stroke her hair and rub her back, trying to be soothing with my actions. Whatever the issue is, she’s safe here. Anything that tries to come through that door to hurt her would be dead inside of thirty seconds, and I hope she knows that.

The sound of her hiccupping sobs echoes around us, and I just keep touching her, trying to ground her to what’s here and what’s real.

I lose track of time like that, focused on Quinn.

Eventually, her sobs subsides, and I can feel her trying to match her breathing to mine.

It takes her a few tries, her breath hitching and her body still dealing with the tremors from her panic, but after a while, she calms down, coming down from the worst of it.

Her body relaxes a little in my hold, and I lean back against the back of the tub, still cradling her to my chest.

After a few beats of silence, Quinn finally speaks again.

“I… that light.” Her voice cracks a bit, and she clears her throat, licking her lips before trying again. “That fucking red light. It brought back a bad memory. I guess it’s some kind of PTSD.”

She lets out a breath, shaking her head. I keep my hands on her, rubbing one palm up and down her arm. When she looks up at me with her beautiful gray eyes, I look right back, trying to convey with my facial expression that I’m listening to her. That I want her to keep talking.

She gets the message, letting out another messy breath.

“Back when my dad was still alive, still in charge of Enigma, I got… taken. By a rival gang. I was minding my own fucking business, heading home from being out with some friends, and they jumped me. I don’t remember how many there were, but it was—it was enough of them that I couldn’t fight them off. And I fucking tried.”

The corner of my mouth quirks up in a smile, even though I feel anything but pleased right now. I know Quinn would have fought back because she’s a fighter. She’s skilled and vicious, like Atlas always says. She wouldn’t have gone down without a fight.

I have an idea of what happened to her now, but I wait for her to say it, anger coiling in my gut.

“They dragged me into an alley nearby,” Quinn whispers.

She turns her head to stare at the wall, her eyes unfocused.

“And they…” Her throat bobs as she swallows.

“They took turns with me, over and over again. There was this flashing streetlight outside the alley, and that’s all I could see while they kept me pinned down. Just that light flashing while they…”

A tremor wracks her lithe, muscled frame, and I hold her closer. It’s all I can offer right now, even though my hands itch with the need to rip apart everyone who ever hurt her.

“I never told my dad about it,” she admits, her voice dull.

“I knew if I did, he’d go after them, and he couldn’t afford to do that.

He was still working on carving out a solid place for Enigma, still building up the gang, and it would have put him in danger and risked everything he’d been building.

So I sucked it up and pretended it never happened.

I never told him anything. Not even up to the day he died. ”

She lets out a shuddering breath as she gets to the end, and it feels like something has lifted from her shoulders with the way she slumps in the water after that.

“I shoved it away,” she admits after a brief silence.

“And I keep shoving it away, because what the fuck am I supposed to do about it, right? It’s been years.

It’s done. Over. But sometimes memories will pop up when I least expect them, and it makes me feel like I’m right back there. It makes me feel broken. Weak.”

I clench my jaw, breathing in her jasmine and honey scent as it mixes with the steam in the air.

Even after months of stalking her, there’s still so much about this woman that I don’t know.

I knew she was strong, a hell of a fighter, and a competent leader, but this is a strength I didn’t know she had.

To bear so much pain all on her own, to keep her head up and to lead her gang the best she can, despite what happened to her.

I guess we have more in common than I ever knew .

Being this close to Quinn keeps revealing new facets to her, showing me things I had no idea about.

The idea that she thinks she’s weak for struggling with this doesn’t sit right with me though, and without thinking, I work to dispel that thought from her head.

“You’re not weak, siren,” I tell her. “I’ve watched you for months, and I know how strong you are.”